His Illegitimate Heir

He grinned. Casey took another step back from the desk—away from Zeb Richards smiling at her. She tried to take comfort in the fact that he probably knew exactly how lethal his grin could be. Men as gorgeous as he was didn’t get through life without knowing exactly what kind of effect they had on women—and it usually made them jerks. Which was fine. Gorgeous jerks never went for women like her and she didn’t bother with them, either.

But there was something in the way he was looking at her that felt like a warning.

“I’ll compromise with you, Ms. Johnson. You and your staff will be excused from submitting résumés.”

That didn’t sound like a compromise. That sounded like she was getting everything she asked for. Which meant the other shoe was about to drop. “And?”

“Instead...” He paused and shot her another grin. This one wasn’t warm and fuzzy—this one was the sharp smile of a man who’d somehow bought a company out from under the Beaumonts. Out from under his own family. “...you and your team will produce a selection of new beers for me to choose from.”

That was one hell of a shoe—and it had landed right on her. “I’m sorry?”

“Your point that the skills of some of your employees won’t readily translate into bullet points on a résumé is well taken. So I’d like to see their skills demonstrated in action.”

She knew her mouth was open, but she didn’t think she could get it closed. She gave it a shot—nope, it was still open. “I can’t just...”

“You do know how to brew beer, don’t you?”

He was needling her—and it was working, dammit. “Of course I know how to brew beer. I’ve been brewing Beaumont beer for twelve years.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

It was probably bad form to strangle your boss on his first day on the job. Tempting, though. “I can’t just produce beer by snapping my fingers. I have to test new recipes—and some of them are not going to work—and then there’s the brewing time, and I won’t be able to do any of that until I get more staff hired.”

“How long will it take?”

She grasped at the first number that popped into her mind. “Two months. At least. Maybe three.”

“Fine. Three months to hire the workers and test some new recipes.” He sat forward in his chair and dropped his gaze to the desk, as if they were done.

“It isn’t that simple,” she told him. “We need to get Marketing to provide us with guidance on what’s currently popular and two—”

“I don’t care what Marketing says.” He cut her off. “This is my company and I want it to brew beers that I like.”

“But I don’t even know what you like.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. But it was too late. He fixed those eyes on her. Heat flushed down her back, warming her from the inside out. “I mean, when it comes to beer,” she quickly corrected. “We’ve got everything on tap...” she added, trying not to blush as she motioned to the bar that ran along one side of the wall.

Richards leaned forward on his elbows as his gaze raked up and down her body again. Damn it all, he was a jerk. He only confirmed it when he opened his mouth and said, “I’d be more than happy to take some time after work and show you exactly what I like.”

Well. If that was how it was going to be, he was making it a lot easier not to develop a crush on him. Because she had not gotten this job by sleeping her way to the top. He might be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen and those green eyes were the stuff of fantasy—but none of it mattered if he used his power as CEO to take advantage of his employees. She was good at what she did and she wouldn’t let anyone take that away from her.

“Mr. Richards, you’re going to have to decide what kind of Beaumont you are going to be—if you really are one.” His eyes hardened, but she didn’t back down. “Because if you’re going to be a predator like your father instead of a businessman like your brother, you’re going to need a new brewmaster.”

Head held high, she walked out of his office and back to her own.

Then she updated her résumé.

Three (#ulink_b59a65d2-c2d8-562a-9247-7a599cd202ba)

Zeb did not have time to think about his new brewmaster’s parting shot. It was, however, difficult not to think about her.

He’d known full well there would be pushback against the memo. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her he wanted to see who could follow directions—but he also wanted to see who wouldn’t and why. Because the fact was, having the entire company divert work hours to producing résumés was not an efficient use of time. And the workers who already had up-to-date résumés ready to go—well, that was because they were a flight risk.

He couldn’t say he was surprised when the brewmaster was the first person to call him on it.

But he still couldn’t believe the brewmaster was a young woman with fire in her eyes and a fierce instinct to protect her employees. A woman who didn’t look at him like he was ripe for the picking. A woman who took one look at him—okay, maybe more than one—and saw the truth.

A young woman with a hell of a mouth on her.

Zeb pushed Casey Johnson from his mind and picked up his phone. He started scrolling through his contacts until he came to one name in particular—Daniel Lee. He dialed and waited.

“Hello?”

“Daniel—it’s Zeb. Are you still in?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Daniel Lee was a former political operative who’d worked behind the scenes to get several incumbents defeated. He could manipulate public perception and he could drill down into data. But that wasn’t why Zeb called him.

Daniel—much like Zeb—was one of them. Beaumont’s bastards.

“Where are you?” Daniel asked, and Zeb didn’t miss the way he neatly avoided the question.

“Sitting in the CEO’s office of the Beaumont Brewery. I scheduled a press conference for Friday—I’d like you to be there. I want to show the whole world that they can’t ignore us anymore.”

There was another pause. On one level, Zeb appreciated that Daniel was methodical. Everything he did was well thought-out and carefully researched, with the data to back it up.

But on the other hand, Zeb didn’t want his relationship with his brother to be one based solely on how the numbers played out. He didn’t know Daniel very well—they’d met only two months ago, after Zeb had spent almost a year and thousands upon thousands of dollars tracking down two of his half brothers. But he and Daniel were family all the same and when Zeb announced to the world that he was a Beaumont and this was his brewery, he wanted his brothers by his side.

“What about CJ?” Daniel asked.

Zeb exhaled. “He’s out.” Zeb had tracked down two illegitimate brothers; all three of them had been born within five years of each other. Daniel was three years younger than Zeb and half-Korean.

The other brother he’d found was Carlos Julián Santino—although he now went by CJ Wesley. Unlike Zeb and Daniel, CJ was a rancher. He didn’t seem to have inherited the Beaumont drive for business.

Two months ago, when the men had all met for the first time over dinner and Zeb had laid out his plan for taking control of the brewery and finally taking what was rightfully theirs, Daniel politely agreed to look at the numbers and weigh the outcomes. But CJ had said he wasn’t interested. Unlike Zeb’s mother, CJ’s mother had married and he’d been adopted by her husband. CJ did not consider Hardwick Beaumont to be his father. He’d made his position clear—he wanted nothing to do with the Beaumonts or the brewery.

He wanted nothing to do with his brothers.

“That’s unfortunate,” Daniel said. “I had hoped...”

Yeah, Zeb had hoped, too. But he wasn’t going to dwell on his failures. Not when success was within his grasp. “I need you by my side, Daniel. This is our time. I won’t be swept under the rug any longer. We are both Beaumonts. It’s not enough that I’ve taken their company away from them—I need it to do better than it did under them. And that means I need you. This is the dawn of a new era.”

Daniel chuckled. “You can stop with the hard sell—I’m in. But I get to be the chief marketing officer, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

There was another long pause. “This had better work,” Daniel said in a menacing voice.

Which made Zeb grin. “It already has.”

* * *